Mid afternoon winter, grey sky heavy and flat, smoke trails from neighbors chimney. All very quiet.
Upstairs room haunted by the smell of wet carpets and bitter alcohol. Model cars line the shelf. Old sofa sunken and sad. Paint peeling, bruised ceiling. Smiles, friendly, "everything will be ok".
Motions for him to come nearer. Belt buckle falls to floor, sound like numbness. Fingers crawl. Flashing scenes. Difficult to breathe.
"Don't tell anyone," he said.
He didn't tell anyone because he didn't remember until now staring out this window, dark grey sky heavy like a blanket tight around him, neighbors chimney smoking and that bitter smell of alcohol in the carpet.
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